


maybe you’re gonna be the one that saves me

by mother_fisher



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Light Pining, M/M, Post-Canon, Season/Series 01 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 11:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17642123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_fisher/pseuds/mother_fisher
Summary: Takes place following season one. Eric visits Adam at military school.





	maybe you’re gonna be the one that saves me

**Author's Note:**

> yes i’m already back. it be like that sometimes.
> 
> unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> title from “wonderwall” by oasis.

In a lot of ways, Mountview wasn’t much different than Moordale. Coursework was still coursework, Adam figured, no matter where you went. Food was still shit. He kept entirely to himself, but it wasn’t as if he’d had much in the way of friends before anyway. And being yelled at by authority figures wasn’t anything new to Adam either. A lifetime of living with his father had prepared him for that.

Then again, Mountview did have it’s immense downsides. They’d cut his hair, for starters, down to half an inch. That, coupled with the fatigues they had him wearing made him look like a proper asshole. There was absolutely nowhere to smoke without getting caught. Adam had already been punished twice already. First, they’d taken away his visitation privilege for a month (like it made any difference), and when that hadn’t worked they’d made him do two hours of extra exercises every morning and night for six weeks. And of course, the most glaring issue, Mountview didn’t have Eric.

Adam thought about him everyday, near constantly. The days at Mountview were long and dull and he had to do  _ something  _ to pass the time, after all. He thought about the last moment he saw him, standing across the way in his animal print jumpsuit, big eyes made to look impossibly bigger with the shock of blue he’d lined them with. He thought about detention, the way Eric had felt pinned beneath him, how soft and warm his skin was, how good it felt to finally give in to that urge he’d always felt but never been quite able to name. That urge that’d had him pressing Eric close to lockers, that’d had him reaching out to grab or shove him, viciously, more often than not, his unnamed hunger mixing with indignation to turn him cruel. Adam thought about that last day in Science, when he’d pressed his little finger against Eric’s, bumped his knee with his, aching just to  _ feel  _ him again, even if it was just a whisper.

Adam spent so much of his time thinking of Eric, that that’s exactly what he’d been doing when his drill sergeant dropped the envelope on his desk. Adam waited until he was finished passing out mail and had left the room before he even turned it over.

The letter was addressed to him, of course.  _ Adam Groff,  _ written neatly in black ink followed by the school’s address. Adam’s heart skipped a beat as he noticed the name above the return address, in the same even black scrawl,  _ Eric Effiong _ .

He kept completely quiet, making sure no one was close enough to him to peer over his shoulder and read the letter before he opened it.

_ Dear Adam, _

_ I hope you don’t mind me writing you. A few days ago, I overheard your father mention to Mr. Hendricks that you wouldn’t be back for detention because he’d had you sent away to boarding school. When I’m writing this, it’s been just under a week since you’ve gone. _

Adam felt his stomach lurch. He’s been away nearly two months now.

_ I looked up all the boarding schools and military academies in a 100 miles, and I’ve sent a letter to each one. I don’t know how far you’ve gone, so I’m sorry if this takes awhile to get to you. I don’t even know if you’ll want me sending you mail, though I suppose I’ll find out if I don’t receive anything in the post. _

_ I don’t know if you’d prefer we don’t talk about that day in detention. Or class the day after. I’m trying not to, but it’s really all I can think about. _

_ I hope you get a chance to read this. I hope you decide to write something back. _

_ Yours, _

_ Eric _

He’d signed his name elegantly in cursive. Adam’s eyes fell to the word  _ yours  _ written in his pretty handwriting and felt something inside him shift and sooth. He liked the sound of that.

Adam shuffled through his small desk. His mother had given him a stack of loose leaf paper and about a million pre-stamped envelopes before he’d left. Taking out a sheet of paper, he began to write his his response.

 

It was a Saturday and Eric was bored.

By this time, he’d usually be at Otis’ playing Smash Bros. but ever since he’d starting hanging out with Ola, Eric had tried to make himself a bit more scarce. He only went over about  _ six  _ times a week now.

He’d already finished his homework, cleaned his room, wanked, and done his makeup twice and it was hardly past noon. Eric had just begun to peruse YouTube for something to watch when his mother called him down.

He met her, face still done up, in his turquoise house robe. Eric wouldn’t say his family was  _ used  _ to his new looks just yet, but they were adjusting, and making effort. That was good enough.

“A letter has come for you,” she shifted through the stack of mail in her hands before handing him a white envelope.

Eric felt his heart beat faster.  _ Adam Groff _ , despite the chicken scratch handwriting, was written unmistakably in the corner. He’d nearly given up hope, decided that Adam wanted nothing to do with him, and committed himself to full, dramatic heartbreak.

“Thanks, Mum,” he said, already halfway up the stairs.

He closed the door of his bedroom behind him, and sat at his desk eagerly before sliding his nail file neatly through the envelope to open it.

_ Tromboner, _

Eric rolled his eyes, but a small smile formed on his lips despite himself.

_ I’m at Mountview, but I bet you might’ve guessed that when you looked at the address. After the ball my dad had me shipped off. That was just the finally straw, really. He’d been keen to get rid of me since beginning of term, probably longer. Anyway, nice of you to write. There’s no one at this place quite like you. They’re all tossers, and none of them are half as good to look at. _

Eric felt his heart flutter in his chest, his cheeks growing warm as his smile grew.

_ I’m writing this as soon as I got your letter. Sorry it’s taken so long. _

_ Listen— _

Eric could practically hear the apprehension in Adam’s voice by the way his letters went thinner, as if he’d begun to write with less pressure, unsure.

_ Visiting day for the month is the 21st, if you’re interested, 10-4. Food here is shit, wouldn’t mind taking one of your sandwiches. _

The letters went thick again, bolder.

_ I’ve been thinking of you, too. _

_ Adam. _

Eric clutched the letter to his chest, blissful for a moment before he jumped in realization. One look at his phone told him  _ tomorrow  _ was the 21st.

He folded Adam’s letter up neatly, pressed it between the pages of his journal, and marched with determination over to his closet. What exactly were you meant to wear to visit you former-bully-turned-hook-up-turned-possibly (hopefully)-something-more at military academy?

 

Sundays at Mountview were the worst. Adam couldn’t believe he’d ever miss going to class, but the long stretch of hours between sunup and lights out were always mind-numbing boring. They were so dull he ached with it. There was morning drills at 5:30, breakfast at six. Chores were done until 10, before they were given rec time between 10-2, with a half hour interlude at noon for lunch. 2-4 was freed up for religion. Adam didn’t really practice so he spent that time staring dully at a Bible so as to avoid kitchen duty. 4-6 was evening drills, six was dinner followed at seven for an hour long assembly that always,  _ always  _ focused on discipline. 8-9 they were given to shower, and by 9:15 it was lights out.

Sundays always crawled by at a snail's pace, but visiting days were the worst. The 10-4 rec/religion block was replaced with visiting hours, and Adam’s complete lack of visitors only served to drive home the point of how utterly terrible everything was.

Of course, there was always the chance that Eric would show up this time. Adam has sent his letter a week ago, hoping it would make it on time. Even if it did, Adam wouldn’t blame Eric if he didn’t show. This place was absolutely miserable.  _ He _ certainly wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have to be.

“Groff!”

Adam was pulled from his thoughts by the loud, unpleasant boom of his drill sergeant.

He stood from his spot at his desk, where he’d been staring blankly at his untouched Bible. “Sir?”

The sergeant tilted his head toward the common area. “You’ve got a visitor out there.”

Adam spotted him the second he entered the commons.  He sat near the entrance, back facing the center of the room, in a loud metallic jacket. Adam couldn’t even see his face, but it was already as if everything in the room went brighter, like that moment in The Wizard of Oz where they leave Kansas and everything goes from sepia to Technicolor. Adam actually felt himself breath a little easier.

He bumped his knee into Eric’s back, causing him to jump, before taking his seat across from him, back to the wall so that he could see everything else in the room. It didn’t matter, they all blurred away anyway with Eric sat right in front of him.

“You git!” he cried, hand coming up over his chest as he caught his breath. “I nearly pissed myself.”

Adam didn’t say anything back, just stared. He’d never been very good with words, serious conversation. Writing the letter had been easier. He’d had time to plan out what he might say, start over if he sounded like a twat. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, hurt Eric’s feelings, and make him think he’d made a mistake.

Eric tittered awkwardly under Adam’s steady gaze. While he didn’t speak, he took every detail in. His fingernails were varnished in a soft blue, and while Adam could tell he’d lined his eyes in black, it was more subtle than the electric blue he remembered. It made his eyes look bigger, but in a less shocking way, like a doe.

Eric shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable, eyes flicking downward to hide under long, pretty eyelashes. “I, er. Didn’t want anyone to get suspicious of you, so I uh, toned it down.”

Adam’s eyes fell to the loud gold jacket Eric wore. “Is that what you did?”

“Well, tried to,” Eric huffed. “I didn’t exactly want to shove  _ myself  _ back into the closet, did I?”

Adam went silent again, but he shifted closer so he was leaning against the table. He knocked his heavy boot between Eric’s shoes and slid his right leg between both of Eric’s. His fingers ached to reach out and grab his hands, hold them in his larger ones.

“Oh,” Eric said, like Adam had startled him again. “I’d almost forgot.”

He reached into the small backpack sat next to him, pulling out a sandwich covered in cling wrap and a brightly wrapped candy bar. He slid them closer to Adam, and he seized the moment, placing one of his hands over Eric’s under the guise of taking the gift.

“I’m not sure if you’re allowed food or whatever,” he said. “but I though, you know, for old times sake.”

Adam squeezed Eric’s hand briefly before letting go. “Thanks,” he said softly, genuinely.

Eric brushed the toe of his shoe lightly against Adam’s calf, a shy sort of look on his face as he did it.  _ Jesus _ , Adam felt hot as it occurred to him that Eric was almost definitely a virgin.

“How’ve you been?” Eric asked. His eyes roamed over Adam, his shorter hair, the white shirt he’d been given on his first day that had been loose but now fit tightly. “You look…” he bit his lip. “Good.”

Adam felt a shiver of lust run through him at the sight. “Don’t,” he gestured vaguely at Eric’s mouth. “Could you not, do that?”

Eric’s hand went to cover his lips immediately, looking around suspiciously. “Do what? Did I—”

“Bite your lip, while I’m sitting across from you.” he clarified. “It’s–just. This is already difficult enough.”

Eric’s face went bashful, and Adam could tell without red cheeks that he was blushing. “Sorry,” his said, lips quirked in a slight smile.

“Five minutes!” yelled a drill sergeant, suddenly. Eric visibly deflated.

“I’ll come round next month, yeah?” he asked, gorgeously hopeful.

“If you want,” Adam said, sliding his leg along both of Eric’s slowly before pulling away.

“Will you get Easter holiday?”

Adam shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“If you do, write and let me know, I’ll talk to my parents about you being able to stay at ours, if you’d like.”

Adam had never wanted to kiss someone as much as he wants to kiss Eric right now.  _ Fuck it _ , he thought, grabbing his wrist and looking around quickly to assure no one was looking before he pulled him into the supply closet just to the left of their table.

“Adam—” Eric sounded confused, but before he could say anything more, Adam silenced him with a kiss.

He pressed him hard against the wall of the closet, so tight you couldn’t have squeezed water between them. The rough canvas covering his pelvis knocked right against Eric’s midriff, both firm and soft all at the same time. His tongue prodded at the seam of his lips until they separated, and he tilted Eric’s head back to delve deeper in his mouth. Adam used his hands to grip Eric’s hips tightly, as his thrust his own, desperate for friction. Eric whined softly, in the back of his throat, and that only made Eric growl, digging his hips harder against the other boys.

The sound of footsteps right outside the door snapped Adam back to reality and he pulled away suddenly, Eric looking a little dazed in his wake.

“Can’t get caught,” Adam answered the unasked question. “Now that someone’s come, they’ll take my visits away again if I am.”

Eric nodded, straightening up. He smoothed his jumper and took a deep breath.

Adam opened the door a crack and made sure no was looking in their direction before sliding out, Eric following quickly after. The moment they were sat back down the drill sergeant shouted out, “one minute!”

Eric stood. He still looked a little ruffled, his lips bruised and looking even fuller than usual. “I’ll write just as soon as I get home.”

Adam stood too, making to walk past Eric, he let his shoulder brush against his. “I’ll start as soon as I get back to mine.”

He strolled back to his room casually, before sitting at his desk. He took a sheet of loose leaf paper from his drawer and began writing.

_ Eric... _

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at zendayasblackgf if you want
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated <3


End file.
